


Rusalka

by MoominQuartz (IceCreAMS)



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [4]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Monster Hunters, Canon-Typical Violence, Drowning, Fae & Fairies, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23063653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCreAMS/pseuds/MoominQuartz
Summary: Connie, Steven, and the others deal with a formidable foe: a wayward water spirit.
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe, Lapis Lazuli & Connie Maheswaran, Lapis Lazuli & Steven Universe
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648339
Comments: 9
Kudos: 40
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Rusalka

**Author's Note:**

  * For [koffie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/koffie/gifts).



> This was written in fulfillment of a prompt from the wonderful [@koffie](http://www.archiveofourownorg./users/koffie), who requested "Near-Death Experience" + Connie for the Bad Things Happen Bingo. (Wanna see my bingo card and maybe request something? Click [here](https://moominquartz.tumblr.com/post/612034627393208320)!)
> 
> But it was also written as a sort of "proof of concept" for an AU idea based on one dream I had. The events of the dream don't happen here but I'd like to get to it at some point.
> 
> So thanks Ari, for giving me the opportunity to play around! ☆
> 
> For reference, Steven & Connie are about the age they are in Future.

_Water._

Connie is no stranger to water, to holding her breath. She counts in her head as she thrashes in the freezing deep, determined to reach sixty, and then one-twenty, searching for a source of light despite the way the water burns her eyes. But there is some supernatural force pulling her down, and then it’s not supernatural at all, just the weight of gallons of water _crushing her,_ and then—

Then, her body fights her. She needs to breathe but she can’t inhale _water_ but her lungs beat against her ribcage, barreling for air, and she can’t find the way up and finally she gasps, the saltwater burning against her throat on its way into her lungs, and

_PANIC_

Something wraps around her waist and she kicks back on instinct; the grip tightens and her eyes squeeze shut and she’s going to _die—_

Then she hits air. She wheezes as her body hits the mud, coughing; she scrambles as she tries to get her feet under her, to right her sense of direction, to _focus._ There is a hand on her back and then a familiar body pushing in front of her, grunting from a hit, and then the situation hits her like a baseball bat.

_“Steven! Connie!”_

Right. The _rusalka._

“I’m fine!” Steven calls, his eyes never leaving Connie. Worry creases his brow as Connie desperately tries to get her breathing under control, knowing that any delay could mean her death.

_Rusalki_ are water spirits. Sometimes they bestow spring rain and fertile harvests upon farmland on or near their territory. Most often they operate in groups or ‘schools,’ sometimes playing pranks by tugging on children’s heels when they go too far, or bringing drowned or drowning humans to shore.

When left alone like this one, sometimes they turn vengeful and angry. And that is what they’re here for.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Connie murmurs with a rasping voice. “Guess my drowning charm broke.” She takes Steven’s hand as he helps her to her feet, and she glances over the field. 

“Mine hasn’t, so don’t worry about me.”

Ruby has her fire sparking at her fingertips, directly at Sapphire’s side, though the korrigan can clearly see that Ruby is in more danger here than she is. Garnet is in the thick of it with Pearl and Amethyst, and while Garnet’s onslaught of spells attempt to chain the _rusalka,_ the spirit shrieks and sends a wall of marsh water at her, spiraling Garnet backward. Pearl swoops in with her sword and the _rusalka_ ducks, spinning backwards into Amethyst’s clawed grip.

_“Leave me alone!”_ the _rusalka_ shrieks, so loud it almost makes Connie’s ears bleed. Her voice has a quality to it like it’s being shouted through water but is a piercing volume. Connie grimaces as she stands upright, and when she looks to the fight, the _rusalka_ has slipped out of Amethyst’s grip. Steven hands Connie the sword that she’d dropped, though she hasn’t been using it.

“Still think we can talk to her?” Connie asks with a small, nervous laugh.

“We have to.” Steven’s response is fervent, without room for doubt. He looks at Connie and offers her a small smile. “I know the others don’t think we’ll be able to pacify her, but we have to try. I won’t let anyone else get hurt if they don’t have to.”

Connie smiles in a way she hopes is reassuring. “All right. Then let’s go.”

They nod and burst forward together. They run parallel, side by side, until they are close enough to the fight that Steven shouts:

_“RUSALKA!”_

And the spirit turns immediately, anger lighting her eyes. She is so incredibly _blue,_ bluer than most _rusalki_ Connie’s seen. Blue skin, navy blue hair and matching eyes, with a dress the consistency and color of the thick marsh water. 

“Do you have a name?” Steven calls.

That makes the others freeze. “What are you _doing?”_ Pearl shouts to him, but Steven’s eyes aren’t on her.

Only the monster.

“What does it matter to you?” the _rusalka_ spits. Her focus turns from the others and is solely on Steven. Out of protective instinct, Connie’s hand finds his and squeezes it, though she knows better than to intervene or draw her sword now. “You’re here to _kill me!”_

“No, I’m not.” Steven holds out his free hand in peaceful offering, and Connie would mirror him if she did not have the hilt of her weapon in her hand. “Why have you been killing everyone who passes through here?”

“They _mock me,”_ the _rusalka_ growls. Water swirls around Steven’s feet and up to his knees, trapping him. He glances down, nerves clearly spiking, and Connie wishes he had the proper sense of self-preservation, because right now she thinks he might let her kill him if she wanted to. “And _you do too!_ Do you think you can trick me?!”

“N-no, that’s not what I’m—”

“Everyone here can come and go as they _please!_ Yet I’m made to suffer for _no fault of my own!”_

She’s nearly at his side. Water swirls around Connie’s ankles and she sidesteps it, dropping Steven’s hand in order to do so. “Steven,” Connie whispers, urgently.

But Steven tries again, stubborn. “Why are you alone? Where’s your school?”

“They left me _ages_ ago.” The _rusalka’s_ laugh is hard, cold… Painful. “Trapped me here, in this land of purgatory. No way out.”

_Oh._ It clicks. Connie knows right away what she means. She looks to the surrounding environment; this is an estuary. The water flows toward the sea from the multitude of rivers pooling here, but the tides keep the _rusalka_ from leaving. Or maybe not the _rusalka_ herself, but the item to which she’s bound.

“What keeps you here?” Connie dares to ask. “What ties your spirit here? If we moved it, you could be free.”

The _rusalka_ stops directly before them. Rage paints her face for another moment, and then it leaves as something pensive takes its place.

“You would do that? For what?”

Steven opens his mouth, “Not—”

Connie steps on his foot as hard as she can to shut him up. He yelps.

“Stop this endless bloodshed.” Connie extends her empty hand. “The people who pass through here have nothing to do with you. If we free you, you have to promise. No more deaths.”

The _rusalka_ stares at Connie’s hand with a frown on her unreadable face.

“Where will you take me?” she demands. “If I show you where I’m trapped, what will you do? Break me? Leave me somewhere desert-dry and ensure my demise?”

“No.” Connie smiles. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go. On my honor as a warlock.”

“Warlocks don’t have honor.”

“This one does.”

“I can vouch for that.” Steven laughs, high and nervous, but Connie has seen him do this enough to know exactly what he’s trying. There’s a lilt to his voice, a velvet quality that isn’t always there. “She’s probably the most honorable person I’ve ever met.”

The _rusalka_ seems to consider this. And then — after one long, painful moment, in which Connie can see others slowly creeping up behind her, preparing to strike if this negotiation goes south — she takes Connie’s hand.

Connie blinks. It isn’t wet or ethereal at all. Cold, maybe, but distinctly human. They shake, and the _rusalka_ meets Connie’s eyes as the water around her ankles seems to vibrate. “It’s a deal. You can’t go back on that.”

“I won’t.” 

There’s a magical quality to this arrangement, but Connie is more than okay with that. She intends to follow through to the letter.

The _rusalka’s_ smile is a genuine one. “It’s Lapis, by the way.”

“That’s a wonderful name. I’m Connie.” Steven looks at her, alarmed — giving your own name is often tantamount to suicide, but Lapis isn’t like traditional feyfolk. She’s a tormented soul, abandoned and isolated, with no home to return to when things go wrong.

Then Lapis turns, and she leads Connie and Steven through the marshland towards the sea. Steps behind her, Connie grabs at Steven’s arm and yanks him toward her, causing him to yelp again. _“Steven,”_ she hisses. “What was that?”

“I-I was worried she’d refuse.” Steven hisses in return, under his breath. “I didn’t _mean_ to, it just happened, and I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’ve gotten hurt before!”

“I just _rescued_ you from drowning, so I’m sorry for _helping_ you!”

“I thought you made this big deal about how you wanted this to be _her_ choice!”

“I just nudged her in the right direction, it’s not that big of a deal!”

_“Steven.”_ Connie groans and massages her brow. It seems every day Steven discovers a new power, but this is one he’s had the hardest time controlling. Connie wishes _she_ was half-fey.

Connie thinks about Steven’s relationship with his mom and decides no, actually, she doesn’t.

When they almost reach the coastline, where the mud turns to sand, Lapis stops, pausing. When Connie comes to her side, the water is at her waist.

“Here. I’m trapped.”

“I’ve got it,” Connie says before Steven can say anything. 

She takes an inhale and drops to her knees. The water still stings her eyes, but here, Connie sees what she was referring to without issue. The handle of something sticks up from the ground, and it takes nearly all of the real estate in Connie’s lungs to dig it out. 

She goes up for air with mud all over her fingers, and then she goes down again. She does this twice more, and when she breaches the surface this time, she holds the hand mirror high in the air. “I’ve got it!” she gasps, coughing only a little.

“Great job!” Steven congratulates her, wrapping his arms around her and planting a kiss against her cheek. Connie giggles.

When she turns to face the _rusalka,_ she finds the spirit has vanished.

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up being very Witcher-y, and I'm ok with that.


End file.
